Drarryland: Chapters of Love
by iNiGmA
Summary: Harry and Draco. Draco and Harry... and other things that Draco probably doesn't want his father to hear about. A collection of Harry & Draco drabbles that I've had entirely too much fun writing.
1. The Consultant

_**A/N: **This is a collection of drabbles I've written for Drarryland, the Game of Drarry. Each drabble will be a new chapter. __Rated for language, so far._

_Drabble 1 — Category: Defence Against the Dark Arts (Aurors/Adventure) _— Prompt: "Auror Potter would hate to be inappropriate." Pick either: 1) Recently assigned partners -OR- 2) Opposite sides -OR-** 3) Draco is a consultant**

_Word count: 928 of 930_

_**Disclaimer: **__Everything Harry Potter belongs to our queen, JK Rowling!_

* * *

**_Drabble 1: The Consultant_**

.

"So, basically, look through all of these?"

"That's right, Potter, all of these." Gawain Robards waved around the room. "And then all of those too."

Harry glanced around the dark and cluttered room, eyeing the boxes full of folders and stacks of parchments piled so high they nearly reached the dungeon ceiling. The light within the room seemed muted as it filtered through the mountains of papers.

"But, Robards," he said weakly, "this is mad. This'll take months."

"Well then you better get started, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said glumly.

"On the bright side, Potter, you aren't getting coffee anymore, are you?"

"No…" Harry said.

"You're a Junior Auror, Potter. This is what Junior Aurors do. Paperwork."

"Surely not," Harry said, but very quietly.

Having heard him, Robards allowed a grin to split across his face. Harry thought he looked positively evil.

"So," Robards said, turning to leave, "when you find something in relation to the Carrow trial, bring it to my immediate attention. Good luck, Potter."

"Thank you, sir," Harry grumbled, turning his attention to the stacks before him. _Where to start…_

"Oh, and one more thing"—Harry glanced back at Robards, who had paused, halfway out the door—"I've sent for a consultant familiar with the case. I expect he'll be along soon."

"Who is it, sir?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I expect you know him. Play nice, Potter." With that, he walked out the door.

"Er – 'play nice'?" Harry said, staring after his retreating back. "What do you mean? Robards?"

There was no response. Harry sighed and shook his head before he remembered that he was expected to scour through the entire underbelly of the Ministry in search of this _one_ Carrow file, which Robards had demanded by yesterday, and if he didn't find it, there would be nothing to serve as proof to block Alecto Carrow's petition for early release from Azkaban. Harry sighed again. _Why was the Ministry so disorganized?_ If Hermione saw the state of this room…

With an effort of will, he turned his attention away from the mystery of the consultant he was supposed to 'play nice' with and turned to the first stack of parchments before him.

He had been sorting through the paperwork for several hours when the heavy door creaked open behind him. Completely engrossed in a reading of the account of Gellert Grindelwald's trial, Harry jumped and whirled around. He stared, the parchment nearly slipping out of his hands.

"Potter."

His name was spoken in a lazy drawl that sent shivers down Harry's spine as he stared into the captivating grey eyes and blond hair of the man he'd spent more years fantasizing about than he dared to admit. He gulped.

"Malfoy," he managed. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, Potter," Draco said, sauntering into the room, "it seems Robards thinks you can't manage this on your own." He gazed around, his eyes glowing silver in the candlelight. "What the bloody hell did you do to get sent down here, anyway?"

"You–" Harry began. His mouth felt incredibly dry, and he swallowed. "_You're _the consultant?"

"The one and only," Draco said, reaching Harry and pulling the parchment from his grasp. "Sorry to disappoint." He glanced at it and scoffed. "This has nothing to do with Carrow. Slacking, as usual?"

Harry blushed and snatched the parchment back, his hand brushing against Draco's and sending pleasant shivers down his arm that settled somewhere in his stomach. "Since when are you consulting for the Aurors?"

"Since your adorable little arse has been in the Academy," Draco said, smirking.

"My what?" Harry blushed again, certain he had misheard.

"You heard me, Potter."

"Right," Harry said, feeling entirely wrong-footed. "Right. So, I'll work on these, and why don't you start in the back room?"

Draco looked disappointed. "If that's what you want."

"Yes, I think that would be best," Harry mumbled, trying to breathe evenly. Draco was so close, and he could smell the subtle scent of something fresh, like flowers or trees. Had Draco been riding his broom that morning? Harry mentally shook his head, trying to get the image of Draco in his tightly-fitting training clothes out of mind.

Draco moved forward and Harry hurriedly stepped backwards to get out of his way before Draco could brush past him. He wasn't expecting the stack of parchments at knee height on the floor behind him though, and he tripped, quite ungracefully, and started to topple to the ground, flailing his arms for purchase.

He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact, when he felt a strong arm wrap firmly around his waist. He gasped, his eyes blinking open to meet a pair of silver-grey ones staring down at him. His heart stopped, his breath catching in his throat.

Draco pulled him back up, but didn't release him, their eyes still locked together. The moment seemed to stretch, for hours, for ever, as they stared at each other, Harry's heart pounding in his ears.

"I," he mumbled, "I…"

"Shut it, Potter." Abruptly, Draco leaned down and kissed him, hard.

Harry's mind went blank as he returned the kiss, leaving only feeling. His hands reached up, trailing through Draco's hair as Draco pushed him against a stack of parchments that immediately toppled over, causing them both to tumble to the floor.

And as they lay there, atop a mess of paper, and continued to kiss each other hungrily, all Harry could think was that this could not possibly be against Robards's orders, because he had, in fact, 'played nice.'

_Really nice._


	2. The Library

_**A/N:** Drabble 2 — Bonus: Harry or Draco stumbles upon something in the Department of Mysteries - either 1) he is hit with a Narrator's Curse and suddenly has a person's voice in his head as if his life were a story -OR-** 2) he finds the library of Wizard and Witch Biographies, where each and every person's biography exists already finished.** Write what happens the next day. Must include excerpts from the Biography._

_Word count: 1376 of 1379_

_**Disclaimer: **__Everything Harry Potter belongs to our queen, JK Rowling!_

* * *

**_Drabble 2: The Library_**

.

The house was dark. Gloomy.

Harry walked through it, glancing around in concern. Empty? Well, that couldn't be good.

"Draco?" he called softly. "Are you in here?"

There was no response. Not. Good.

"Draco?" he tried again, his voice echoing across the cavernous foyer. "You haven't shown up to work… everyone's worried."

Silence.

"Draco! Come the bloody hell out! You're worrying me, all right? If you don't show up, I'm going to have the Missing Persons team print your face on every magical milk carton! I swear, if you don't –"

"Harry."

He whirled around, his eyes searching through the looming shadows until he spotted Draco standing in the darkness.

"Draco!" His voice cracked in relief. "Why are you standing there like that? Are you trying to give me a–"

"Panic attack?" Draco supplied, finishing his sentence.

"Er – yeah," Harry said. "We've all been–"

"Worried about my whereabouts?"

"Yes, exactly." Harry tilted his head in confusion at Draco's choice of words. "Exactly what I was going to say."

He took several steps towards Draco through the murky room and tripped over a chair laden with books with a painful bang. At exactly the same moment, Draco said, "_Immobulus!_" freezing the chair in place. Then he threw a small glass vial at Harry, which Harry caught reflexively as he rubbed his smarting knee.

"Essence of Dittany," Draco said calmly.

Harry raised his eyebrows as he glanced down to see that his robes had torn open and his knee was bleeding. He dribbled several drops of Dittany on it, watching the wound close immediately.

"OK," he said, staring at Draco. "How did you – what the _hell_ is going on, Draco?"

"Harry," Draco said, still in that oddly calm voice, "would you like to know the day you die?"

* * *

_Where the fuck was he?_

This was the only question on Draco Malfoy's mind as he walked through stacks and stacks of books that seemed to go on forever. He turned a corner, found more stacks and more books, and scowled.

_Bloody Department of Mysteries!_ This was _definitely_ the last time he was going down here. He didn't even know there _was_ a library down here, much less one that extended several levels down into the subbasements of the Ministry.

He trailed his wandlight over a metal plaque posted to the edge of the nearest stack. _Wizard and Witch Biographies_.

Draco slipped down the aisle, his footsteps the only sound in the hush of the stacks. Fuck. He was _entirely_ bloody lost.

He let his wand trail across the books. They seemed to go on forever, stretching slowly from the A's to the B's, the C's… He stopped by the D's, pulling out a thick book labeled: _0144924109273402: Albus Dumbledore_. The old codger's biography! Fascinating. He flipped open its dusty pages.

"Albus Dumbledore," he read aloud, "born 12th July, 1881. Died 30th June, 1997. Albus was a man of many disparate lives woven together like threads to form a rope that bound together the old and the new, the good and the evil, the peace and the war. Let us begin, then, on a muggy day in July, when Kendra Dumbledore went into labor amidst… _UGH!_"

He slammed the book shut, enveloping his face in a dusty cloud, and coughed as he stuck it back on the shelf. Well, nothing like a graphic description of labor. Ugh. Vaginas. He shook his head violently to clear it and glanced at the next book: _0144924109273102: Aberforth Dumbledore._

Against his better judgement, he slipped it off the shelf and flipped that one open too.

"Aberforth Dumbledore," he read, "born 15th April, 1884. Died… _Died?!_"

He froze, his eyes scanning the page. Not only was he quite sure Aberfoth was still alive, having seen the chap only last Thursday when he and Harry had dropped by the Hog's Head for an uncomfortable lunch – which had cemented Draco's feelings that they would probably _not_ be getting back together – but the book listed a date in the future_. Far in the future. _

"What the fuck?"

He pulled several more books from the shelves at random and skimmed through them, his eyes widening in shock. Before he was aware of it, he had made his way down the stacks, pulling down more tomes, until the floor was littered with piles of books thrown about so haphazardly that they would probably give Hermione Granger a heart attack.

But it didn't matter. Because in his hands he held: _8235192815368280: Draco Malfoy _and_ 8235192815368292: Harry Potter._

He contemplated them both. _Did he dare?_

Did he _want_ the answers?

_Did Harry still love him?_

The lure was too strong. He let the books fall open, his silver-grey eyes widening as he perused their contents.

He had no recollection of how he found his way out of the Department of Mysteries.

* * *

"Would you like to know the day you die?" Draco asked Harry now. Calmly.

"Er – " Harry said, eyeing him in confusion. "Are you – er – OK, Draco? I know our lunch didn't go too well last week, and I'm so sorry for running out, but I don't think I've given you just cause to… _kill me_?"

"I understand," Draco said, still in the same voice. "You have to work, Harry, it's very important. You have an important job."

"We both have an important…" Harry began.

"But I know things, Harry," Draco continued. "Lots of very interesting things. Would you like to know some of them?"

"Er–"

"Would you like to know about your three children?"

"My _what_?"

"James," Draco said. "Albus. Lily. Merlin, Potter, you're so unoriginal. Hasn't anyone ever told you?"

"Have you been… drinking, Draco?" Harry said. "I haven't any children. What are you on about?"

"Wouldn't Ginerva want to name some herself?"

"Ginerva… _you mean Ginny?!_ What are you talking about. I'm _gay_, remember?"

"Sure you are," Draco said. "I can't believe you've been playing with my heart all this time, Harry."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You're mental," he said. "You've lost your mind. I'm taking you to St. Mungo's."

"_No, Harry!_" Draco cried dramatically. "Stay back!"

Harry paused, midway to Draco. His eyes grew hard. "You've been in the library. _Haven't you?_"

"So what if I have?!" Draco cried. "You're questioning it even now, aren't you? Your sexuality! You've been seeing Ginny! _ Did you ever even love me at all or was I just some experiment?!_ The book doesn't specify, by the way, so I'm asking."

"Of course I loved you!" Harry said, stepping closer. "I _still_ love you! You were my first… Draco, _please!_"

"You're a liar, Potter!"

Harry stepped right up to Draco and grabbed his arm, staring into his eyes. "Draco, look at me."

Against his better judgement, Draco turned his eyes to Harry's, meeting his brilliant green eyes, losing himself. Fuck, Harry was so beautiful.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly, "_I am_." Abruptly, he raised his wand and jammed it to Draco's head. Draco's eyes widened, then went blank. He collapsed into Harry's arms, who lowered him to the floor, then took out a vial of potion and dribbled some into Draco's mouth.

"He knows," Harry said calmly, bringing his wand to his temple. "I had to give him the sedative." He paused, listening. "He's read through my whole cover…. No, of course he doesn't know the real… Yes, boss, I'll take care of it."

He pointed his wand at Draco, murmuring several words. Then he waited in silence for the blond to wake. When Draco finally did, Harry grinned brightly.

"Draco! I was worried... Are you OK?"

"Harry? What happened? I dreamt you married Ginny, and you have children, and…"

"Don't be silly!" Harry said. "I'd _never_ marry Ginny! I love _you_, Draco."

"I love you too," Draco said happily, his eyes lightning up. "Thank Merlin, I thought we were done…"

"No, way. In fact, let's make up."

He leaned down, planting his lips on Draco's.

Draco kissed him back. Here he was, with the love of his life at last. He wasn't sure why he was on the floor of his house… or why he _really_ wanted to go to the library, of all places…

Or why, suddenly, Harry seemed a tad scary.

But it probably didn't matter.

Right?


	3. The Secret

_**A/N: **__Drabble 3 — Category: History of Magic (Epilogue Compliant/Older Drarry) — Prompt: Because of the anonymous nature of it, Harry or Draco accidentally buys the other in a charity auction for a date. _

_Word count: 1026 of 1029_

_**Disclaimer: **__Everything Harry Potter belongs to our queen, JK Rowling!_

* * *

**_Drabble 3: The Secret_**

.

"_Secret thing #3_?" Harry frowned down at the sign-up sheet beside a black placard with a white question mark on it.

"Oh, go on, Harry," Ginny said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be fun!"

"It starts at a 500 galleons!"

"Well, it's for a good cause, isn't it? And we've got money to spare. Go ahead and bid on it!"

"Er – OK," Harry said, writing his name down on the otherwise empty sign-up sheet. It seemed no one else was brave enough to bid on "Secret Thing." Harry was a Gryffindor, and thus brave and reckless by default, but he couldn't get over the nagging feeling that something about "Secret Thing" sounded oddly… _familiar_.

But, ah well, if he couldn't remember what it was, it probably wasn't important.

* * *

"Ladies and gentleman!" Lee Jordan called brightly to the assembled crowd. "Welcome, welcome, to the first Annual War Restoration Charity Gala and Silent Auction! Such a pleasure to have you all with us! Just a reminder, all the money raised today will go toward assisting the war restoration effort, provide funding for war orphans, and, last but not least, I've got my eye on a new flat in Diagon Alley and – just kidding, ladies and gents. Just kidding! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

The crowed laughed appreciatively.

"Now," Lee continued, "to make this auction a little more interesting, several months ago, we asked a few of our most prominent members of society to volunteer their time – that is to say, a _romantic_ _evening_ of their time."

Harry's nagging feeling of unease that he was forgetting something intensified.

"So, as you may have read on the signpost up front, _Secret Things_ are dates with some of our best and brightest bachelors!"

Harry paled considerably, flashing back to several months ago. _Oh, bloody hell…_

"So, let's get started, shall we? _Secret Thing #1_! A date with the gallant Neville Longbottom, a war hero who single-handedly destroyed You-Know-Who's snake, Nagini. Let's see who's bid on Neville, shall we?"

Ginny turned to Harry, shaking with suppressed laughter. "Oh Merlin, Harry, we should've read the signpost!"

"Hannah Abbot!" Lee called. "Hannah, girl, come up here and claim your prize! What a lucky lady you are, securing this dashing hero for only 350 galleons!"

"Well," Harry said nervously, as Hannah ran up to the stage and grinned up at Neville, "that and, you see – er – there's just one other little thing. I forgot that, er – "

"And there they go, the happy couple!" Lee called. "Off to a wonderful night on the town. Have fun, you two! Now, _Secret Thing #2_! A date with our hero of heroes! Brave and dashing, the savior of our entire wizarding world, does he even need an introduction? Ladies and gentleman, I present to you–"

"Oh, no," Ginny whispered, her eyes wide.

"– Harry Potter! Come on up here, Harry!"

Harry trooped dejectedly onto the stage, where he glanced around, staring at Ginny's horrified face.

"_I forgot to tell you! You were suppose to bid on me!"_ he mouthed to her. She dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"Well, Harry," Lee said, clapping him on the back and grinning. "You, my friend, have managed to raise an incredible 800 galleons for the cause! Phenomenal, my man! Enough to save three and a half children for a year! Now, who's the lucky lady who's bought an evening with you?"

He glanced at his parchment while Harry's eyes slid from Ginny's amused form and trailed around the room, landing on a pale face, which looked about as horrified as he felt.

_Oh no._

"Well," Lee said, with an entirely straight face, "it appears the lucky lady is none other than… _Draco Malfoy!_" The crowd gasped. Ginny bent over in a fit of silent laughter. "Come up here and claim your prize then, Draco!"

Draco walked slowly up to the stage, his face set in a scowl. Harry scowled right back.

"Didn't read the signpost either, did you?" Harry said quietly, keeping a bright smile on his face for the audience.

"No," Draco ground out, through lips pressed tightly together.

"Well," Lee said, "off you go then, gentlemen! Have a lovely date! But wait a moment, Draco, stay up here if you please, since you, my friend, are _Secret Thing #3_!"

"You're _what_?" Harry gasped to Draco, pausing halfway to the stairs as Ginny all but collapsed on the floor laughing.

Draco scowled. "None of your business, Potter. Get!"

"Well," Harry said, "actually–"

"Oh Merlin!" Lee cried. "Did you two plan this? Buying Draco Malfoy for the fair sum of 500 galleons – Harry Potter! Oh my lord, get out of here, you two! Your burning passion is making the room uncomfortable!"

Harry and Draco both flushed furiously and stumbled off the stage amongst a cacophony of muttered conversation, where they were met by Ginny, who had tears of mirth streaming down her face.

"Ginevra," Draco said coolly. "Don't worry, I have no plans to take your stupid sod of a fiancé anywhere. He's all yours."

"Oh, _Draco_," Harry said silkily, "if only it were that simple. We're compelled to carry out our dates, don't you remember?"

"I was quite drunk when I signed up, Potter, and I remember nothing. What's your excuse?"

"As if he needs an excuse," Ginny managed, "he can barely remember where he parked his broom."

"Either way," Harry said shortly as the three of them moved towards the door amidst a crowd of whispers, "we need to go on this date. So, how's next bloody Saturday?"

"It's bloody fine," Draco growled.

"Fine!" Harry snapped. "It's a date!"

"Fine!"

"Scared, Malfoy?" Harry grinned evilly.

Draco turned to stare at him, his silver-grey eyes narrowing slightly. "You wish."

He stormed out of the hall, leaving Harry and Ginny to stare after him.

"He's rather dashing, isn't he?" Ginny said brightly. "Are you going to tell him you've had a crush on him since you were twelve?"

"Only if you tell him about your crush."

"Only if you bring him back so we can bed him together."

"Deal."

Ginny grinned. "Deal."


	4. The Traveler

_**A/N: **__Drabble 4 — __Bonus: Well-known perpetual bachelor Draco Malfoy is accidentally sent to an alternate reality where he's just left Harry Potter at the altar. Submission must include Draco interacting with both Harrys._

_Word count: 1308 of 1309_

_**Disclaimer: **__Everything Harry Potter belongs to our queen, JK Rowling!_

* * *

**_Drabble 4: The Traveler_**

.

"You're a stupid sod, Draco!"

Draco drew back, flinching as Harry's anger washed over him.

"Really?" he said weakly.

"Yes, _really_! How can you stand there, looking all innocent, pretending you're the perfect boyfriend, when you've been running around with Pansy _bloody_ Parkinson, of all people! Who do you take me for?!"

"Well, Harry, I thought you understood that we weren't exclusive—"

"I know we aren't bloody exclusive! _But Pansy?!_"

"Well, she has this proprietary way of running her fingers through my hair that—"

"Stop! Just stop, Draco! And then there's Kevin?! From the Department of Mysteries?"

"Well, he has really nice abs, and—"

"OK," Harry said. "You know what, Draco? I can't do this anymore. We're done."

"What? But, Harry… You're my—"

"Your _what_?" Harry snapped, his green eyes blazing with hurt and anger. "Your _number one_? Your favorite boy toy? Your convenient fuck buddy? No more, Draco. I'm tired of always putting you first, when you never put me first! You come to me for leftovers when you're tired of everyone else! I don't deserve to be treated like this."

"I know," Draco said, "I'm sorry, I just—"

Harry, however, didn't let him finish. He turned on his heel and stormed away, until his angry footsteps were abruptly cut off by the slamming of the front door. Draco watched him go, unspoken words weighing heavily on the growing chasm between them.

"—love you… and I don't know how to say it," he whispered, to the now empty room.

The portraits around him snickered.

"What's wrong with you, boy?" the portrait of Abraxas Malfoy snapped, from the confines of his painted plush leather armchair, set against a dark green backdrop. "Why are you toying with that young man?"

"Leave me alone, Grandad," Draco muttered.

"Oh shut up, you fool! In my day, we didn't sleep with a whole hoard of brainless twits just because we didn't have the balls to admit our feelings. Man up, and tell that boy how you feel!"

Draco groaned and turned away, heading to his bedroom, which was blissfully portrait free.

"Oh sure, run away, boy!" Abraxas called after him, rising out of his armchair, as his voice echoed across the room. "Go on, you coward! Shaming the family name! _Avada Kedavra!_"

Draco whirled around, his mouth dropping open, as a splatter of green paint landed on the wall next to him, errant drops trailing down to the floor.

"Did you just try to _kill me_, you stupid codger? _With paint?!"_

"Someone needs to teach you a lesson, young man!" Abraxas said, raising his painted wand again. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

"_Protego!"_ Draco said, rolling his eyes.

His protection spell collided with the newest splatter of green paint, and suddenly the whole world around him shook. Draco cursed wildly, trying to stay on his feet. With an effort of will, he forced the shield of his _Protego_ outward, until it shattered into a million shards of crystalized green.

When it fell away, he was blinking in sudden sunlight.

He stared around, openmouthed. _Had he accidentally destroyed his whole house?_

His first thought was that that insufferable portrait would be gone at last.

His second thought was that the surrounding area did not entirely look like the grounds of Malfoy Manor.

His third and final thought was a shocked curse because Hermione Granger was advancing on him, with her fist raised in a very nostalgic way, and he didn't have time to think anymore.

"_What the fuck is wrong with you!?"_ she cursed, and before he could so much as open his mouth, she punched him in the face. Again.

"Granger?" he said weakly.

"Don't you 'Granger' me!" she yelled. "How could you leave Harry at the altar like that?"

"I — what?"

"_What?"_ she repeated, her hair inflating to twice its usual size, which was already impressive. "_WHAT?! _YOU STUPID TOSSER!"

Draco glanced around, trying to see past her ridiculous hair, and spotted Harry, who was wearing a fitted black tuxedo that made him look deliciously dashing. He was sitting dejectedly on the steps of a small platform, set against a backdrop of flowers, and surrounded by _all_ the Weasleys. There were about fifty dainty white chairs set on the lawn facing the platform, all empty. He gaped.

"I didn't — what altar? What's happening?"

"Don't play stupid!" she scoffed. "Harry just finished telling you his vows, and instead of saying yours you said, 'I'm sorry, Harry, I can't do this,' and walked away! How dare you show your face again?!"

"I did _what?!_" Completely dumfounded, Draco glanced at Harry again, who raised his teary, shimmering eyes to meet Draco's.

"Draco…" He stumbled abruptly to his feet and ran in Draco's direction, his eyes lighting up. "You've come back!"

"I…" Draco managed.

Harry stopped before him, his face lighting up with naked hope. "You've changed your mind? You want to get married after all?"

"Marriage? Are you mad?" Draco said weakly.

It was, he realized too late, entirely the wrong thing to say. Harry let out a choked sob, pushed past him, and ran off toward the large manor behind them.

"W-wait!" Draco called, but Harry didn't stop. He stared in shock, wondering how many more times he was going to get it wrong.

"Now you've really done it, you stupid prat!" Hermione moaned, as the rest of the Weasleys approached.

"What's wrong with you?!" Ron yelled, jabbing his finger at Draco, his face as red as his hair. "How could you do that to my best mate?!"

And then, out of nowhere, he heard a shockingly familiar voice:

"Still haven't figured it out?! _Avada Kedavra!_"

"Bloody hell!" Draco gasped, staring at the familiar portrait, which had somehow appeared in Granger's hands, as if she had magicked it out of thin air. "_Protego!_"

One more shattering explosion of painted crystals later, Draco was standing in a vast space with several high-powered electric lights beaming down on him from a grid on the ceiling. People were running unceremoniously around him, carrying all manner of odd things, and the room was filled with green backdrops, video monitors, cameras, and all sorts of other odd Muggles things. He gazed around, open-mouthed, and saw Harry approaching him.

"We are _not_ engaged!" Draco said hurriedly. "And where the hell are we?"

Harry stopped, raising an eyebrow. "Engaged? I bloody well hope not. Carlos wants us for the wides of the Astronomy Tower now."

Draco tilted his head questionably. "I think I'm in a rather odd dream."

Harry lowered his head conspiratorially. "Aren't we all? Look, I know Ella's turned you down again, but we still have to shoot this scene. Come on, Tim."

Draco decided to ignore this, whatever it meant. "Harry, I'm sorry about everything. I love you."

There. He'd said it. _Bloody said it!_

"Er—" Harry said. "Cool. I think you're great too!"

Draco stepped forward and abruptly kissed Harry full on the mouth. Hard.

Harry slithered out of his grasp like a slimy little serpent. "Er—" he said. "Tim?"

"Harry," Draco drawled.

"It's _Daniyel_," Harry said. "Bloody hell, have you hit your head? Or — Oh!" His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. "Are you… _Draco_?"

"Of course I am. Who else would I be, you dolt!"

"Er — well this wasn't supposed to happen."

"_What wasn't?_"

"I'm afraid I'm out of words," Harry — _Daniyel?_ — said. He dug into his pocket and removed a familiar painting, which was definitely too big to have been there in the first place.

"Oh no," Draco said.

Abraxas laughed. "Oh, yes! _Avada Kedavra_, boy!"

"_Protego_?" Draco said incredulously.

Everything turned green, and when he opened his eyes, he was on the familiar floor of his drawing room. Harry was leaning down beside him.

"Are you real?" Draco whispered.

Harry smiled and winked.

There were simply no words.

* * *

_**A/N: **Haha, guys, I'm sorry _— _I really ran out of words with this one! I wanted to give y'all quite a bit more story here! :P I hope you enjoyed this, though, and I'll admit it's very much peppered with references to my chapter story **Trading Places**, where you can meet the real Tim, Daniyel, Ella, and Robert as well... if you'd like to! :)_

_Rina_


	5. The Sacrifice

_**A/N: **Drabble 3 — Category: Potions - Angst — Prompt: The needs of the many are worth fighting for, worth dying for, but so are the needs of the few. The needs of one. Drarry__ \+ throwing it all on the line for lov_e.

_Word count: 640 of 640_

_**Disclaimer: **__Everything Harry Potter belongs to our queen, JK Rowling!_

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**_Drabble 5: The Sacrifice_**

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Everything was burning.

The acrid smell of smoke — the air was thick with it. Heavy. He could taste the burnt sharpness of it in the back of his throat. It had settled around them heavily. The weight of the entire world. Like a dementor's cloak.

Harry's breath caught in his chest as he stole through the broken pieces of a courtyard where in just six years, he had known more happy moments than he'd had in the entirety of the eleven years before.

If he was to give his life for something, what worthier cause could there be?

He inhaled sharply, his eyes momentarily tearing up as he pictured their faces. Ron. Hermione. His friends. _No _— his family. The only ones left. Everyone else had gone, after all. Everyone else was untouchable… But not for long. _He_ would be the final sacrifice. Just like Dumbledore had planned it.

_It hurt._

It hurt so much that he could barely breathe. That he feared he would falter, that his lungs would breathe their last too soon. That he would fall before he was meant to fall. But he walked on. He had chosen his path long ago. Had chosen it, even if someone else had chosen it for him. And there was an upside to it all — to this cold and brutal death, which loomed closer with every breath. With every footstep.

He would see them all. _Soon_. In the short amount of time it would take to walk across these broken stones, across the burnt grass soaked red with blood, across the looming shadows of the forest. As soon as his footsteps ran out, and his lungs expelled their last breath — in a death that was cold, and brutal but, at least, not meaningless, he would be with them once more.

Ron and Hermione would understand, he knew. They would grieve, certainly, but they would heal. They had each other, after all.

They would forgive him.

No, he had only one regret.

He froze.

It must have been a trick of his vision — an illusion, because he had been thinking about those silver-grey eyes, hoping against hope to see them one more time, even though he feared that doing so would rob him of the last bits of his courage.

But no.

Draco Malfoy was standing there, cloaked in shadow, the still-burning fires in the courtyard reflected in his dark grey eyes.

"Potter."

His name on Draco's lips was like a bullet… like an _Avada Kedavra_ let loose too soon, too fast. It hit him right in the heart —almost brought him to his knees — as memories of days long locked away broke free of their dam and rushed through him like a river.

_Draco, smiling at him shyly from the table at the very end of the library, his silvery hair casually falling across his eyes._

_Draco, coming closer, in an empty corridor, his face filling Harry's whole field of vision. His lips soft._

_Draco, his arms braced against an old, chipped sink, meeting Harry's accusing eyes in the reflection of a dusty mirror. Curses flying. Blood. Sobs._

He stood before Harry now, watching him silently, and Harry stared back, unable to move, to breathe.

Here they were. Two broken boys, on opposite sides of a war that had torn them apart and would destroy them all, before it was over.

"You're going to him."

It wasn't a question. A nod; it was all Harry could manage.

"You _can't._" Draco's voice broke.

"I have to. It's the only way to end it."

"Please, _Harry_, don't. For me. Stay alive. Run with me."

"I can't," he whispered, his own tears finally falling.

He pushed past, leaving Draco behind him, his sobs fading into the night.

Another sacrifice. Love.

Another casualty.

But if he kept walking, would Draco finally find the light?


End file.
